


Just As I Am (I Awoke With a Tear on My Tongue)

by AM505



Series: Abandon You (I Wish I Could) [6]
Category: Misfits (TV 2009)
Genre: Alisha has issues, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Dark, First Time Blow Jobs, Flashbacks, Flirting, Homophobic Language, Implied Violence, Jealousy, M/M, Murder, Murder Kink, Nathan decides to make it harder than it has to be, Nathan has mortality/ immortality issues, Nathan sees Simon naked, Nathan wears make-up, Nightmares, Nip slips, Prostitution, Rough Oral Sex, Simon tries to respect Nathan's boundaries, Size Difference, Size Kink, Slurs, Slut Shaming, Temptation, Tiny crop tops, Traumatised Nathan, but very light, exploration of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:13:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29310885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AM505/pseuds/AM505
Summary: Defiantly, he applies the lip gloss to his top lip, completing his look as he pretends he couldn’t be less bothered. When she starts to back out of the toilets, it feels like a small victory. Until she leaves him with one last insult:“You look like such a professional whore, Nathan. Good job. Really.”Nathan suffers a minor meltdown when Alisha confronts him.Simon is there to make him feel better.
Relationships: Simon Bellamy/Nathan Young
Series: Abandon You (I Wish I Could) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1993498
Kudos: 29





	Just As I Am (I Awoke With a Tear on My Tongue)

**Author's Note:**

> Happy February everyone!
> 
> Sorry for the wait, and for any comments I haven't replied to yet. I hope you know how much I appreciate your feedback! :)
> 
> In this single chapter things are going to get a bit angsty (before they get very steamy!) Enjoy xx

The air has seemed so rosy lately, it’s enough to leave the tip of his tongue tingly. The world has never seemed so light and uplifting; it’s hard to not feel carried through an invisible high. The kind that courses through his body and fills his every inhale with drunken thrill. It feels like having been waiting blindly all his life. And now that his eyes are wide open, he’s rewarded with wonderful colours and shapes he never knew existed. 

It’s a glorious day. Scorching hot.

Nathan zips down the top half of his jumpsuit, wanting to feel the air on his skin.

They’ve been out in the sun for hours now, picking litter and weeding the car park. It’s all done by hand, even the weeds poking out from small gaps in the pavement where it’s impossible to pull them out by the root. They are on their hands and knees, panting and sweating, because for some reason, Shaun hasn’t trusted any of them with a weed burner. 

Stingy bastard.

Despite all the hard work, Nathan is in a perfect mood. Ignoring the soft dirt under his fingernails, he ties the jumpsuit around his waist and throws his head back, giving his curls a shake as he wipes the pearly drops of sweat from his forehead. The dirt sticks to his face as a consequence. He’s one sticky, hot mess and because he knows it, he begins to saunter around the place, hoping that it will earn him Simon’s attention. 

It does. Instantly.

“N-nathan. You’ve got a little…”

Simon points to his own face, mimicking in order to help Nathan find the spot. But Nathan just strolls up to him, full of intent.

“Where? Did I get it?”

“No. Here,” Simon points to his forehead again, before realising Nathan isn’t trying at all.

“You have to be more specific,” teases the young Irishman who rubs at the dirt and spreads it across his cheek.

He’s pushing his chest forward and Simon’s eyes drop to the red top he’s wearing. It’s tiny, and so low-cut, it’s barely covering his nipples. He can see Nathan’s breastbone protruding, along with his ribs. His skin is so impossibly smooth and inviting, it’s making Simon curse under his breath. _Who the fuck even has skin like that?_

Nathan pushes his shoulders forward, which causes one of the straps to fall off. The top slips even further down, exposing every inch of his chest.

Sometimes he thinks Nathan is the devil in disguise.

“Yo, Barry. Eyes up here, man.”

In fact, he believes it more and more every day.

Simon emits a small grunt as he meets his gaze. Nathan’s eyes are bright with amusement. Simon finds himself frowning, although he knows perfectly well why the other boy is doing this to him.

The torture is deliberate and well-deserved. 

“Oi!” Kelly seems to notice their fooling around and decides they must be taking the piss. “Get some fuckin’ work done over there! The rest of us would like to go to lunch soon!”

Nathan turns around, pretends to be startled by her tone.

“Calm down. Barry was just helping me clean up. He’s not very good at pointing me in the right direction, as you can see.”

It’s been four days of this. Of Simon not being allowed to touch him. Or initiate contact. And of Nathan’s constant, mostly topless teasing.

Kelly all but growls in response.

“Come here. And put some fucking clothes on, will ya?”

She glances at his exposed midriff, which only has Nathan winking. Before he can say anything clever, she spits into her hand and smears it all over his face.

“Jesus! Stop that! Christ, woman, you call that sanitary?” Nathan pulls away from her and uses his elbow to aggressively wipe it off. He pulls a disgusted face.

“What?” Kelly deadpans. “You know wot, you could do with a much bigger clean.”

Nathan huffs with offense:

“That was so **not** sexy. Thank you for ruining the mood, Kel!”

“What mood?”

Nathan grins over at Simon who presses his lips together tightly and looks away.

He’s getting more and more used to keeping his head down.

Nathan is frustratingly unsubtle.

That’s when he catches Alisha’s cold eyes landing on him, so full of distaste that it leaves him stunned. Even when she notices him looking back, she persists. Even when she whispers something to Curtis, she keeps him nailed to the ground without even blinking. Simon’s mouth falls open and he feels dumbfounded when Curtis mimics her scowling, though it doesn’t surprise him the slightest. He wonders what Alisha has just told him. Even if Curtis already has more than enough reasons to despise him, Simon questions what he actually knows.

It’s a quiet, antagonistic exchange that leaves him feeling strangely off-balance and unsettled. He doesn’t like the idea of being vilified or slandered, and so, despite not wanting to come off needy, he ends up asking Nathan to join him for lunch. Just the thought of Nathan makes him feel better. He’s forever keen for the two of them to spend more time together. He doesn’t care if Alisha hates him all the more for it.

“Are you wanting to wine and dine me already, Barry?”

“It’s just lunch, Nathan.” Simon falls instantly nervous. “We can do that, right? That’s not crossing the line, is it?”

Nathan glances at him as he replies casually:

“Maybe tomorrow. I gotta go wash my face. In case you didn’t notice, Kelly practically _licked_ me.”

Simon considers telling Nathan for a moment. That Alisha has left him feeling small and sort of lowly. That he’s worried they’ve both pissed her off royally, although it’s probably more Simon’s fault than Nathan’s. He led her on. He hurt her feelings. _He_ supposedly broke all the promises of his future self.

But then again, he doesn’t feel like talking about Alisha. He wants to focus solely on the other boy. Seeing Nathan has quickly become his favourite pastime.

“Can I come? Can I watch?” He asks hopefully, although he can already guess the answer.

“No,” utters Nathan in his usual, taunting way, “but thank you for asking.”

Simon longs for the day that he can finally follow Nathan around like a puppy, without being accused of crowding and smothering him. Nathan gently shoos him away and makes a point of shutting the door in his face. He’s looking at him with that impish smile that makes Simon believe everything is going to be okay, as long as he does as he’s told.

What Simon doesn’t know is that Nathan is planning on rewarding him. He has been so good these last couple of days. He’s followed the new ground rules devotedly, so determined to abide by Nathan’s terms and conditions. Not that Nathan ever thought he would be one for making demands. In fact, it almost goes against his laid-back, breezy nature and blasé outlook on life. But he knows the trust is important. Lusting for Simon isn’t enough. He likes Simon too much to allow him to self-sabotage. If they don’t establish the principles of behaviour between them from the very beginning, Simon will never believe himself capable of self-restraint.

Nathan wants to show him that playing by the rules pays off. 

That’s why telling him no matters.

Nathan washes his face thoroughly before reaching underneath the sink where he’s taped his secret supplies to the bottom. He can’t think of any place safer. If his cosmetics were discovered by coincidence, at least this way they can’t be traced directly back to him. If they were discovered falling out of his locker, on the other hand… Maybe it’s just the paranoia that comes with being a sex worker, but Nathan doesn’t exactly like the idea of flaunting his beauty products publically.

Today, he decides he wants to look good for Simon. He wants to make an extra effort, seeing as he’s been the one dictating the speed of things so far. He knows it hasn’t been easy for Simon sharing his deepest, darkest feelings with him. He’s become so scared of getting rejected, and even though Nathan isn’t planning on giving any free-passes, there’s no reason why his hard work can’t come with benefits. He likes the idea of reassuring the other boy. Even if there are more sides to Simon than there are pieces in a puzzle, Nathan can’t deny his feelings of intrigue. Nathan has never been a fan of predictability and convention, and being with Simon is in no way boring, he’ll give him that.

Applying his eye-liner smoothly, it feels different than dolling up for his clients. This is more intimate, he realises. It’s a gesture that carries meaning and intention because he cares about Simon’s reaction. He wants to create a look that pleases him and makes him proud. Looking good for his clients is all about stroking egos and giving his men what they’ve paid for. It’s more or less expected, whereas Simon will be pleasantly surprised. Or at least, Nathan hopes he will. 

He has a feeling the kinky, little bastard likes his lips **blood red.** His bottom lip is freshly painted when suddenly, the door opens. Jolting at the noise, Nathan stares into the mirror, expecting to see Simon appearing behind him, his curiosity having gotten the better of him in the end. He’s just about to have a serious talk with him about personal space when he sees that he’s mistaken. It’s not Simon, but Alisha’s hand pushing the door open. And she walks in, catches Nathan’s kohl-rimmed eyes in the mirror, after which her gaze falls on the lip gloss in his hand.

This is a twist he was not expecting. Nathan’s mouth falls open, but he stops himself before he lets something inappropriate slip. After all, he hasn’t really spoken to Alisha since the night she dragged Barry’s arse after using her power on him. Instead, he just swallows and straightens his back, feeling himself shrinking the more she ogles him. She lingers by the door, looking like she’s suddenly forgotten what she came for. It’s safe to assume she doesn’t want to go anywhere near him, but if she thinks he is going to pack up his things and leave the room just so they can walk on eggshells around each other, she can think again.

“Hey, close the door, will you?” He tries to sound nonchalant in order to break the ice. “Give us working girls some privacy.”

Okay, that was very hit-and-miss. In other words, not funny at all.

Alisha doesn’t budge, but keeps staring at him with hostility.

“You prance around the place wearing a tiny crop top, but you need privacy to do your make-up?” She produces a subtle, disapproving sound. “Sure. Makes sense.”

Nathan feels baffled as she lowers her eyes and studies the small of his back where his skin remains exposed. As if he isn’t already feeling uncomfortable, she puts him down further by zooming in on his half-painted lips at which she pulls a face that can only be described as repulsion. Nathan’s jaw drops slightly, even if he fails to respond. He’s never worn make-up in front of his friends before, but this particular reaction is the last thing he’d expected. Alisha is looking at him as if he’s all wrong. She is trying to put him to shame, and truly, he can understand why she would want to. But it’s not going to work on him. He’s not going to let her.

Defiantly, he applies the lip gloss to his top lip, completing his look as he pretends he couldn’t be less bothered. When she starts to back out of the toilets, it feels like a small victory. Until she leaves him with one last insult:

“You look like such a professional whore, Nathan. Good job. Really.”

His instinct tells him to laugh it off.

He tries and fails, and even if he had managed, she’s already gone.

There’s no one here to watch his brave face.

He feels a pinch deep inside his chest, and it’s enough to crack his own reflection staring back at him.

_Don’t listen to her. You look good, you look good, you look good, you look good..._

He knows he does. He feels it. No one, and least of all Alisha, can convince him otherwise.

But then, upon second glance, reality sinks in. He has practiced this routine too many times before, and it usually amounts to him being knifed down and skull fucked for the rest of the evening. The make-up may be dedicated to Simon this time, but really, he is wearing the same old look of an idiot prostitute who lets himself undergo injury and violence, until he’s nothing but contorted features, red with swelling, and sprawled out limbs, broken bones and blue, oxygen-deprived skin. Images flash before his eyes before he can make it stop. His own dead face has taken full possession of the mirror, and it’s so foul, all Nathan can think of is the smell of metal, blood, and of piss. Semen. Rotting flesh; the very smell that had him retching as they buried and re-buried Tony the probation worker. He’s cruelly reminded of the time he woke up in his own grave, six feet under, alone and abandoned. It’s where he’s bound to end up again.

_Dead man walking._

He’s nothing but a body that should have fully decomposed by now, should have been long gone. Even if it’s masked by his power, he feels as if he’s living in constant decay.

He’s rotten. Rotten to the very core.

Disgusted with himself, Nathan reaches for the tissues and begins to wipe off the lip gloss that stains his skin like blood. He realises now how cheap his look is, and it leaves him wishing he could cleanse and refine himself, and scrub his skin until it peels right off. Until he’s certain he can look himself in the eyes again.

He’s so flustered when he storms out of the toilets that he doesn’t notice Simon waiting for him outside, not until he stumbles into him and nearly knocks them both over, that is. Simon hisses with surprise and drops something out of his hands, but Nathan isn’t even looking at him. He’s the last person he wants to run into right now. He’s the last person he wants to be seen by. He’s already pushing past him and getting ready to run when Simon hollers:

“Nathan, wait! Where are you going?”

He’s reaching his breaking point, and so, Nathan whips around and resorts to the only thing he’s able to cling to right now: Accusation.

“Were you just standing by the door waiting for me the whole time?” His tone is strangely aggressive and delicate all at once. “What’s wrong with you? Go away! Mind your own fucking business!”

Simon looks at him, startled and confused.

“Nathan, no! It’s nothing like that. I - I went to buy you something.” Simon bends down nervously and picks up the sandwich he dropped. “I - I came to give it to you. I’m sorry, I didn’t know…” He pauses, locking eyes with the other boy. “Are you wearing make-up?”

Simon is holding up the sandwich, offering it to him. But Nathan doesn’t want the free food, nor the affection. He’s too miserable. There’s no room for consolation in him.

“Fuck you, Barry!”

Before he can stop himself, he slaps the stupid sandwich out of Simon’s hand, just to watch his jaw dropping one more time.

“Nathan, what are you-”

“I said FUCK YOU! I don’t want your charity. Leave me alone!”

He’s too upset to realise where he’s going. Only when Simon chases after him does he realise that he’s fled the community centre and has slumped down on a bench by the lake. His legs are shaking. When he catches the sun’s reflection in the water, he merely hides his face in his hands and crumples.

“Nathan…” Simon’s voice sounds so gently in his ear. He sounds so concerned. So baffled. “Nathan, look at me. What did I do? Tell me.”

Nathan sniffles angrily and wipes his nose with the back of his hand.

“I’ll tell you what you’ve fucking done!” He snaps. “I tried to look pretty for you! But then I realised that I can never look pretty again. Because you’ve ruined me! You ruined me, Barry, by showing me those pictures. You prick! I - I should never have looked at them…”

He’s not making much sense, but Simon patiently settles down next to him, rubs at his back until he’s able to take a couple of deep breaths.

“First of all, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re looking beautiful, Nathan. You’re wearing eyeliner. Did - did you do that for me?”

Nathan just sobs and rubs his tear-stained eyes, certain that the make-up has gone everywhere.

“D-don’t lie to me, Barry,” he warns him. “I look hideous. I am hideous…”

“You’re not. Look at me, Nathan. You’re not.”

“I’m - I’m perishing,” Nathan weeps, “I’m dying. I might as well be bloated and crawling with maggots. Don’t touch me, Barry, I’m infested!”

For the first time, he appears to have said something that has Simon truly frightened. That should teach him, really. Documenting his dead body without considering the aftermath. The toll it takes on him.

“Nathan, please. Let me hold you for a second? Is that okay? I’ll prove it to you that you’re okay. You’re beautiful as ever.”

Nathan closes his eyes as he feels an arm wrapping softly around his back. He’s starting to know Simon’s embrace so well, it’s beginning to feel like the most natural thing in the world. Even when Nathan insists that he wants to keep his distance, really, he just wants to be held, and cradled, and cherished until it no longer matters how small and vulnerable he feels. 

Lately he’s been lying cold in the ground almost every night.

_“Nathan, wake up! Please stop screaming.”_

_Hands had been reaching for him again, even managing to track him down the night in Simon’s bed. For a moment, Simon’s hands had become one and the same as those squeezing around his throat and closing the lid over his frozen body. Nathan had felt the dirt pouring over him like a heavy weight, trapping him in the dark for all eternity. Even when he’d opened his eyes and looked straight up into Simon’s face, he believed he was still in his coffin._

_“I did this to you, didn’t I?” Simon’s voice had been so full of guilt and terror. “I traumatised you.”_

_Nathan had spent the rest of the night burrowing into the other boy’s chest only to wake up the next morning, chiding Simon for not keeping to his side of the bed._

Simon is suddenly asking him the same question again:

“Did I do this to you? Was it something I said?”

Nathan isn’t sure when he’s started leaning against Simon, resting his head on his shoulder. He evades the question and hiccups instead:

“I wish I’d never looked like that. I don’t want it to be me, I don’t want it to be my blood. I keep trying to pretend it’s someone else…”

Simon watches him sadly. He knows what he’s referring to. That’s why he changes the subject as kindly as he can.

“I love that you put on eyeliner for me. Just when I thought your eyes couldn’t get any prettier.”

Nathan forces a tiny smile, despite feeling shaken. He could have spent lunch with the other boy instead of running off on his own. If he hadn’t been so determined to pull a stunt in order to surprise him, he wouldn’t have been troubled by Alisha, and he wouldn’t have suffered another horrible relapse. He suddenly wishes he hadn’t knocked the sandwich out of Simon’s hands, twice. He’s realising much too late that he is starving, and that being taken care of might not be so bad after all.

“I’m sorry, Barry. If you want, I can make it up to you. I mean, a little kiss wouldn’t be completely against the rules, would it?”

“Are you asking me to kiss you, Nathan? Are you giving me permission?”

All he has to do is nod and just like that, Simon’s lips are pressing against his. It’s tender and warm, and it’s everything Nathan needs in order to feel the life flowing back into him.

He’s alive and breathing.

Trust Barry to dig his grave _and_ be the person to pull him back up.

“By the way, nice willpower you showed me earlier,” quips Nathan while he erases the last evidence of his crying. “I had my tits out and everything. I almost thought I had cracked you.”

“Can you please stop trying so hard to crack me?” Simon licks his lips and lowers his gaze to Nathan’s chest. “Do you have any idea what you look like wearing that?”

“Yeah, whorish. According to Alisha.”

“What?” Simon’s expression intensifies and Nathan immediately wishes he’d just kept his mouth shut. “She said that?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not like I care what she thinks.”

“Nathan…”

“I’m okay, Barry. I had an overreaction, that’s all.”

*

“I’ll have a word with her. I won’t have her talking to you like that again.”

Simon waits around when they finish for the day. He knows Nathan is expecting a client tonight. He knows because he’s asked him out to dinner, which led him to being turned down, and now, to a more serious conversation about Nathan being free to make his choices. And Simon is all for that, naturally. He knows he doesn’t own him. He knows they are not exclusive. He just wishes Nathan would demonstrate his freedom without jeopardising his well-being.

“Barry, don’t. It’s not worth it,” Nathan insists solemnly. “I’m thick-skinned. I don’t care.”

“She doesn’t know what you’ve been through, Nathan. I don’t care if she is still upset. She better leave you alone.”

Nathan is casually going through his bag as he tries to decide what to wear. He feels Simon’s reaction is slightly over-the-top. He’s trying so hard to stick up for him, and pick his side. This isn’t about Alisha. It’s about making up for his mistakes by highlighting someone else’s bad example.

But Nathan won’t let it snow-ball just so Simon can prove his loyalty.

“Here’s one for ya. Would this choker go well with my mesh shirt?” He holds up his black, see-through top and a dark-blue velvet choker necklace, which has Simon immediately distracted. Nathan grins at him wickedly: “Don’t tell me I have to try it on for you to decide?”

The other boy stares at him, entranced. 

“You’re killing me,” mutters Simon simply. “You’re making this harder for me than it has to be.”

Nathan knows he’s not being unreasonable for calling out the other boy’s jealousy. He’s not asking too much by ordering Simon to stay away and keep out of his business when he’s with clients. Normal romances do not involve voyeuristic stalking. Temptation shouldn’t feel anywhere near as dangerous as this. And yet, with Simon being so sweet lately, he feels awkward emphasising his concerns:

“You’re not… stopping by tonight, are you?”

Nathan puts away his outfit. He’s relieved when Simon looks him in the eye and responds earnestly:

“No. I promised you I wouldn’t do that anymore. I just hope you’re being careful, is all.”

“Of course I’m careful.” Nathan realises that isn’t necessarily true, but there’s no way he’s offering Simon an excuse to ‘check up’ on him later. “I’ll message you when I’m… awake.”

Simon nods hesitantly.

Ever since they learned about Dixon’s wanker of a brother, he’s had this crazy notion that the man might try to set up a trap for Nathan by presenting himself as a customer. Nathan tries to remind him that the prick made a mistake by showing his face. He’s sworn to Simon that he will only accept his pre-approved clients, those he’s already familiar with. The last thing he needs right now is being fucked over again.

Something about Simon’s worry warms his heart, though. It evokes contradictory emotions in him when, later in the evening, Nathan lets his paranoia get the better of him and he finds himself looking for a sign that the other boy may have gone against his word.

“Barry? I know you’re there,” he attempts as he stares blindly into the dark hallway, in case the random luck of the universe should prove him right.

When Simon fails to appear before him, however, Nathan believes more firmly he’s kept his promise.

*

“Such a pretty, lithe thing you are. Come, sit in my lap.”

The mesh shirt turns out to be a hit. The choker, not so much. The man peels the tight band off his neck, explains to Nathan that it might get in the way.

“You’re ravishing, baby. Absolutely ravishing.”

Nathan holds his breath while his throat is being kissed and nibbled at. He’s finding it hard to keep his eyes open. With the alcohol in his blood, all he wants to do is close them and pretend it’s Simon.

But Simon doesn’t smell of menthol cigarettes and beer.

Simon’s lips aren’t as rough, and he doesn’t have the stubble to leave Nathan’s face stinging with carpet burns.

He’s never been turned on by any of his clients, and tonight is no exception. But boy does he miss enjoying himself, even when it makes him feel guilty because he knows he’s aroused for all the wrong reasons. Like when Simon looks at him as though he’s just a piece of meat waiting to be branded. Looks at him like he could lock him in a tower, throw away the key and keep him to himself, and Nathan can almost picture himself there, imprisoned for all eternity.

Utterly high on yearning, Nathan pretends he’s nothing but a slave to Simon’s urges. It doesn’t even set off the alarm bells in his head. He’s either too plastered to hear them, or he’s keeping them deliberately muted.

“Still with me, lad? I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Nathan doesn’t protest when his client picks him up and rises to his feet. He’s being carried, and instead of caring what will happen to him, he falls against the older man’s chest, flaccid and compliant. Only when the man begins to climb the stairs does he realise he’s being taken to the mezzanine. 

“That’s a good boy. Lie down for me while I get ready.”

The man drops him down on his mattress, leaving Nathan sprawled out clumsily. Before his eyes slip closed again, he twists his head around in time to see his client pulling out a thick, nylon rope from his black rucksack.

He’s never died by hanging before.

*

_Barry can u come in early? Before the gang shows up xx_

_**Why? Are you okay? Did something happen?**_

_**I’m on my way Nathan. Leaving the house now.** _

_**Nathan?**_

_**I’ll be there in 15 mins.** _

_**Please tell me you’re okay.** _

_**NATHAN??!!??** _

_I’m fine man just wanna see u ok? Alone xx_

_**Thank god…** _

_Chillax B u always assume the worst xoxo_

Simon goes straight in for a kiss when he arrives, which Nathan fails to dodge, maybe purposefully, or maybe because he’s more bothered securing the towel around his waist before it slips down, giving the other boy a different surprise than intended. Though he’s wet from his shower, Simon holds Nathan close for a moment, as if checking he’s fully intact.

“You’re lucky I’ve brushed my teeth,” Nathan jokes. “Or maybe you were hoping I hadn’t. Maybe you wanted a bit of corpse breath.”

Simon doesn’t find it funny, but looks at him with a sense of relief.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. I - I feel so out of control when I’m not…”

“Watching over me?” Nathan says knowingly. “Yeah well, that’s the point, isn’t it? You can’t always be in control. You have to let me go fuck up on my own.” When he notices Simon tensing, he adds quickly: “Not that I did, you know, fuck up. Not this time. It was fine. Went smoothly.”

“How did you… uhm…”

“Die?”

Simon nods anxiously. He releases Nathan’s shoulders only to take a hold of his hands instead.

“Towel,” utters Nathan awkwardly. He withdraws his left hand, which he presses to his hip, insisting to cover up.

“I don’t mind,” jokes Simon who keeps staring down Nathan’s flat stomach, and at the hip bone that juts out. “God, you’re thin. Do you know that?”

“Excuse me?”

“No, I mean - you’re lovely. Your waist is so petite.”

“That’s it,” huffs Nathan, feeling objectified. “I’m getting dressed.” 

“Let me watch you. Please?”

“No way. Turn around, you pervert.”

He walks Simon backwards slowly and gestures for him to face the wall.

“But Nathan - I’ve already seen you. I know you.”

“I know you do,” retorts the green-eyed boy, “through no choice of mine, might I add. Seriously, don’t look. You better not cheat. I mean it.”

Simon gulps and does what he’s told once again. He stares into the wall dutifully, too scared to find out what might happen if he disobeys. He listens quietly while Nathan rummages through his locker. He hears the towel dropping to the floor. A moment later he hears Nathan zipping up his jumpsuit.

“Do you know what the problem is, Barry? You know every inch of my body. You’ve seen me bent over in, god knows, every position there is. Which means you hold a power over me that I never knew you had.”

Simon furrows his brows, apprehensive as he wonders where this is going.

“I’m sorry, Nathan.”

“What makes it even more upsetting,” continues the other boy, “is the fact that you haven’t yet offered me a single peek in return.”

“W-wait, what?”

Simon turns around before he can stop himself. Nathan is standing before him, dressed in that unflattering orange colour that somehow still looks good on him.

“I missed you last night. When my client touched me, I kept trying to pretend I was with you. But then it hit me. I don’t know your body, do I? I don’t know how you feel against me. I don’t know how you _taste._ ”

Simon thinks his heart skips a beat or two. Then, as he realises what Nathan is saying, he lets himself go and presses the other boy against the locker urgently. It appears to be the wrong move, though. Because when he kisses his way into Nathan’s mouth, he is quickly met with resistance.

“No, Barry. I’m not asking you to touch me. I’m asking… Will you take your clothes off for me and… let me see?”

“See?” Simon swallows drily. “You mean…”

“I want to know you like you know me.” Nathan bites his lip expectantly. “If you’re willing.”

Naturally, there’s nothing Simon would deny him. Nathan can have as much of him as he wants. He can have all of him and more. He suddenly longs to give Nathan back some of that power he selfishly stole.

“Y-yes. I don’t want to be invisible to you anymore, Nathan.” His hands are already reaching for his belt when he muses: “Is that why you asked me to come?”

Nathan offers him a soft look, which he follows up with a shrug.

“I woke up alone and wished you were here. That’s all.”

*

Simon’s upper body is stronger and more toned than he remembers. Fuck. It brings Nathan to wonder if he’s actually ever seen him with his shirt off. Like, _really_ seen him. He feels like he would have remembered the gorgeous robustness of Simon’s physique. Underneath the ironed shirt, he’s hiding a pair of broad shoulders and a delightfully thick neck. His biceps are defined, although Nathan suspects he might be flexing. Nevertheless, he can’t take his eyes off the neat structure of Simon’s muscles. 

“Jesus. You’re fit. When did you become fit?”

Simon looks almost suspicious, but for once, Nathan isn’t being sarcastic.

He’s in awe.

“I - I’ve been tryin’ out the gym a couple of times,” admits Simon, all self-conscious. “That’s all.”

“That’s all? Are you sure you weren’t trying to become Super Barry? You look like you could take him on.”

“N-no,” Simon emits a small laugh. “No, honestly, it’s n-nothing major. I just figured…”

“What?”

“Well, since the storm, we’ve been… attacked… and… ambushed a lot. And neither of us have powers that are actively protecting us. Just because I can turn invisible doesn’t mean I can necessarily fight back. Or, _defend._ ”

“Defend who? Me?” Nathan smirks, all cherub-faced. “Did you decide to get buff for me, Barry?”

“Jesus, Nathan. You’re immortal. Your body has its own defence-mechanism.”

“So just to impress me, then? That’s okay. You don’t have to take any bullets for me, man.”

“I can't tell if you are joking or not.”

“I’ll take one for you.”

“Again - I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

Nathan just smiles innocently as he gazes down Simon’s abdomen. His skin is pale, his chest hairy and firm. Simon seems to sense his enthusiasm. In fact, his obvious delight is probably the very thing arousing him. Nathan can see his underwear tenting and his pupils dilating. He wonders if Simon feels nervous at the idea of losing his last piece of clothing. Part of Nathan leans towards being supportive, and offering praise without pushing him further. But then, part of him also wants to rip the underwear straight off him and expose him like Simon has exposed him.

“Can I…”

Nathan looks down suggestively. He wants to be the one to do it.

Simon nods promptly. A little wet spot of growing rapidly at the centre of the fabric, staining his dark-blue briefs. His sudden blushing is adorable. Nathan doesn’t look away, doesn’t want to miss it. When he brings himself down to his knees and removes the underwear with his teeth, he makes certain to look up into Simon’s eyes the entire time.

*

Nathan falls back slightly in what Simon assumes might be mock-surprise. 

“Jesus!”

Those green eyes widen, and while Simon worries that he’s taking the piss, Nathan’s shock is very much real.

Simon is big.

Probably in the top three of the biggest he’s ever faced.

Simon is every wet dream he suffered _insatiably_ as a teenager. He’s everything he foolishly fantasised about taking on when he was still much too young, too inexperienced to handle anything bigger than a small toy. His teenage self would have absolutely burst into tears just looking at him.

Speechless, Nathan swallows and realises he’s practically drooling.

It’s not just that Simon is long, and thick, and leaking pre-cum right before his eyes. It’s that he’s got so much length, and so much girth, Nathan can already feel the stretch. While he’s probably been with guys who were longer yet, he can only recall them being much thinner. Nathan can’t remember ever being with someone who had such a perfect, full shape that it’s making him wonder if he can even close his hand around him. The longer he looks at him, the more he realises that while Simon looks positively beautiful, he feels a tinge of intimidation, too. Simon could pretty much destroy him if he wanted to. Nathan knows his own bony arse, he knows his limits. And as Simon’s veiny length is staring straight at him, he notices that it’s both pulsating and _curved,_ arching into just the right angle to make it **hurt.**

“What are you thinking? You’re just… staring.”

“Christ, Barry. You’re such a dark horse, aren’t you?”

“Wh-what? What is that supposed to mean?”

“How could you not tell me you have a _massive_ … I mean. How do I not know about this? Ever heard of bragging rights? Have you really been keeping this big boy to yourself all this time? I mean, I would have shown _a lot_ more respect had I known.”

“Stop, Nathan. You d-don’t have to do that.”

“Do what? Wait a second. Do you not know? Are you telling me you’re not even aware of the _size_ between your legs?”

Simon falls embarrassed and clams up ever so typically. Of course he doesn’t know.

“Barry, you’re gorgeous. Look at me. That’s the most amazing cock I’ve ever seen!”

“You’re just saying that,” sounds the reply, with a fair amount of resistance.

“No, I’m serious. Now I know why Alisha’s so gutted.”

Simon’s mouth falls open. He glares down at Nathan, scandalised.

“You’re evil. Evil and… out of line. You know that?”

And sure enough, Nathan’s smile is slightly wicked when he responds by teasing:

“Come on, you love me for it. Besides, I think I saw you twitching just there. You’re flattered, aren’t you?”

“No! I mean… I’m worried you’re just… toying with me.”

“I’d never do that.” Nathan’s voice is thick and sincere. “Barry, I’m on my knees, almost - _gagging_ \- for you. Do you really have no clue how hot you are?”

“Hot?” Simon’s expression is one of utter confusion. “Wait. For real?”

And then it occurs to him - maybe Simon doesn’t believe himself to be above average, because he hasn’t been able to compare himself to anyone else for a long time. Nathan is aware he doesn’t have a lot of friends, and probably never did in the first place. He hasn’t undressed in front of enough people, whether it be boys or girls, to actually receive feedback, or importantly, compliments. It almost breaks Nathan’s heart a little bit, realising how utterly underappreciated this boy is. No one has told him how mesmerising he looks. No one has told him that beautiful, big cocks like his don’t grow on trees. 

Simon is as rare as he is clueless.

“I’m not screwing with you. I promise. You’re fucking turning me on right now.”

Nathan is practically gushing. Simon continues to look astonished, and if his entire body wasn’t tickling with want, he’d be very tempted to laugh at the face he’s pulling. Gosh, Simon is even more sensitive than he thought. So afraid of getting hurt.

If he hadn’t hurt him first, Nathan could almost believe him innocent as a lamb.

“Am I really…” Simon clears his throat nervously. “Are you happy with me, Nathan?”

“Do you want me to show you how happy I am?” Even though they both know what he’s suggesting, Nathan clarifies: “Can I suck you? I’m dying to feel you on my tongue, Barry.”

*

His hands settle in Nathan’s curls. As soon as he feels those pillowy lips closing around him, he sees stars and his heart races to re-possess, and to occupy and seize Nathan completely. It’s an instinct he’s still fighting hard to overcome.

Nathan retches the moment he thrusts all the way into the back of his mouth.

“Stop, Barry. Stop.”

He’s fucked up again. Simon stares down at the other boy with alarm. He’s sorry for crossing the line. He’s so sorry, so sorry, so sorry…

...so sorry to say he wants to do it again.

“You can’t be in control all the time. Do you understand? We’re still taking things slow.”

Nathan’s tone is soft. After all, despite not wanting Simon to ram himself down his throat, he’s eager to keep going, keep exploring.

“I won’t do it again,” whispers Simon, apologetic and flustered. “I’m sorry.”

“Will you give up control for me, Barry?”

Simon inhales and exhales deeply.

“Will you put me in charge for once?” Nathan prompts him again. “Do you trust me to make it good for you?”

He’s nodding, but still not managing any words. He wants more than anything to pull Nathan forward and hold his head still while he fucks his face savagely, until he’s dissolved his every protest. 

But he can’t.

It’s Nathan. 

Whom he _worships._

He never wants to exploit him again.

And so, he promises not to thrust, not to move his hips or touch him at all. He offers Nathan a chance to feel empowered, and to feel _in_ power, by letting him do as he pleases without taking over.

It’s only fair.

That this time, he’s the one put on show while Nathan remains fully clothed.

 _You’ve seen him. You’ve taken him._

_You’re giving him something in return._

“Thanks for stopping,” mutters Nathan quietly, eyeing up the tip of Simon’s erection hungrily. “I just needed to make sure you would.”

*

Nathan is licking the underside of Simon’s cock slowly and testingly. 

The girth and width of him is making his jaw cramp up almost instantly, but Nathan works through the discomfort and focuses on his breathing. Thankfully, Simon keeps his hands behind his back, makes no sudden movement that would have certainly choked him. But it’s okay. Nathan’s lips were made for sucking cock. It’s a natural talent of his. When it comes to his mouth, he’s always felt gifted - he’s quick-witted and loud, but he can be ever so soft and gentle when he wants to. And right now he’s practically caressing Simon, giving him a light tickle by stroking his tongue further down his length. Sometimes he can be generous. Sometimes he can be loving.

He’s not certain how to go about Simon, though. If he’d let Simon in charge, he’s pretty sure he would prefer to go rough and fast. However, the number of blowjobs he’s had can be counted on the fingers of one hand. He probably has no idea what he’s doing, or how he likes it. Nathan wants to show him that he can be sensual and slow and still get him off ever so passionately. He wants to show him the effort he’s putting into this. He wants this to feel like his first. 

“You’re so… pretty.” Simon breathes in sharply, body jerking with sensation. He’s fixating on Nathan’s eyes and mouth, looking almost hypnotised as the Irishman takes him slightly deeper. “I like it this way. I like watching you.”

Nathan is beginning to think he’s talking too much and decides to steal his breath away. Without warning, he swirls his tongue across the very tip, stimulating him intently. Simon shudders as he licks him a couple of times before withdrawing just enough to close his lips around the head. This is when he picks up a steady rhythm and sucks him harder.

“Oh my god… Nathan…”

He’s tasting the salty pre-cum that fills his mouth and mixes with his spit. Simon is visibly restraining himself, keeping his own hips from thrusting forward. But Nathan can take a hint.

“God! How do you…”

Nathan closes his eyes and savours Simon’s moan as he opens up the back of his mouth and takes him deeper. He’s so big, it’s getting harder to swallow around him, and harder yet not to spill his fluids. He’s breathing through his nostrils only as he tries to take another inch, but he’s already feeling Simon pressing against the opening of his throat. If he bites off any more than he can chew, he’s soon going to end up in his airways. Nathan presses his hands against Simon’s legs, taking a bit of weight off his knees as he steadies himself. He’s not sure if he’s ready to actually deepthroat the other boy, especially in this position. However, Simon is moaning and gasping so needily for him. Nathan can’t help but feel flattered by the way his legs are shaking, and the way the breath hitches in his throat.

“Nathan… Yes. Please…”

He loves hearing his own name being uttered like a prayer.

Nathan concentrates on suppressing his gag reflex so he can keep a hold of Simon’s length just a little while longer. It feels as though the other boy is growing even bigger, and fuller, inside his mouth, although he doubts that’s possible. Careful not to push himself over the edge, Nathan bobs his head back and forth a couple of times, already feeling the urge to retch. 

Simon is so very nearly in his throat. It’s terrifying and insanely fucking hot all at once.

Simon whines and sobs as he pleads for more. 

“Nathan, that’s - you’re so… oh my god…”

Nathan keeps bobbing his head as he retracts slightly, only to take him back in. He can’t get over the fact that there is more of Simon to swallow, if only he felt capable. His mouth is beginning to fill with pre-cum again and it’s getting increasingly hard not to choke on it.

“C-can I…” Simon pauses when Nathan’s tongue has him trembling again. “Can I touch your hair? I - I promise I won’t do anything… I just want to h-hold you…”

With his dick resting on his tongue, it’s hard to deny Simon anything.

*

“H-how did you die? Last night… You never told me how you died.” 

Simon’s fingers are raking through his curls, because he’s still trying his damndest not to shove his face further onto his cock. Feeling and playing with his hair is the next-best thing. He loves getting his hands on him. He needs the reminder that it’s really Nathan, that he’s really on his knees for him, and that it’s really Nathan’s mouth bringing him to ecstasy, like this is everything his entire life has been leading up to.

Nathan looks up at him as if he knows exactly why he’s thinking about that now. Simon is getting so fucking close and failing miserably to hide it. He has been nearing the edge ever since Nathan started moving his head fast and steady like that, and he’s been quivering and struggling to keep still, standing on his tiptoes breathlessly, ever since Nathan gagged around him and spilled his fluids down his chin.

He’s looking so used. He’s looking like a right mess, and he’s gorgeous and impossibly precious like this, with his lips stretching around him obscenely and his throat bobbing and almost expanding to accommodate his size. Simon rubs his fingers into his scalp, reminding the green-eyed boy of his question. Nathan begins to slow down and back away, until he lets go of him altogether with a wet pop.

He swallows diligently before answering:

“Hanging.”

His voice is delightfully wheezy. Simon enjoys having done that to him, and hearing the effect he has on him. He’s eternally grateful for the mental images Nathan has offered him with his response, and for the fact that Nathan doesn’t hesitate before wrapping his fingers around his shaft and getting back to work.

Simon knows that, as he starts sucking him again, he loves him.

This is the best he’s ever fucking felt. Who would have thought it possible to feel something so strongly. His heart has never felt this full, this alive.

He loves him, he loves him, he loves him-

*

Nathan’s eyes are blurring with tears as Simon cums down his throat.

Stubbornly, he holds his breath and continues to swallow him down. Simon is moaning loudly as his body twitches with pleasure. Nathan lets him enjoy it for as long as he can, certain that Simon is unaware of his effort, and of his aching jaw and knees.

His palms are still pressed against his thighs, however, there’s no need to keep him in place. Simon has held himself back faithfully all this time, so when - very suddenly - he feels those strong hips jerking, forcing his softening cock to shift inside his mouth, Nathan forgives his blunder. He merely lets out a strangled grunt and looks up at Simon when he realises he’s all stiff with alertness. Something behind his back appears to have stolen his attention.

Nathan never even heard the door opening, but he senses the presence of a third party just before they’re interrupted by a bellowing:

“What the FUCK?”

*

Simon pulls out all too quickly and takes some of the cum with him before Nathan can swallow it all. It spills out of his mouth and stains the orange jumpsuit and his chest. With his airways suddenly freed up again, Nathan inhales sharply, which turns out to be a terrible mistake. The remains of Simon’s spunk get caught in his throat, triggering a round of awkward coughing.

Simon is too busy pulling up his underwear and tucking away his still semi-erect cock to give a damn.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” whistles Nathan, though no one’s asked. He slowly turns around to see Alisha glowering at them both, which explains why Simon’s lost his ability to speak. “Oh,” he says, just as her bag slips off her shoulder and drops to the floor, “it’s you.”

_Who’s the bloody stalker now?_

Alisha looks about ready to implode.

“You FUCKING whore, Nathan! I hate you!”

He winces with offence.

“Ooh. That’s a bit harsh.”

Simon’s stare shifts between him and Alisha while he puts his clothes back on as quickly as he can. He looks like he doesn’t know what to do. Nathan suspects his brain isn’t working at full speed.

“You’re doing this to me on purpose, aren’t you?” Alisha roars. “You’re trying to rub this in my face!”

“No one was here,” gripes Nathan, after which he swiftly wipes his mouth with his hand. Just in case. “Why are you here so early? You’re never early!”

“Fuck you!” She sounds like she’s welling up. Her bottom lip is quivering. “You better take a good look at yourself in the mirror, Nathan! You’re a fucking disgrace, do you know that?”

“Alisha!” Finally, Simon regains his speech. “Nathan hasn’t done anything wrong. You weren’t supposed to see. W-we thought we were alone…”

He probably regrets opening his mouth the moment she lays her eyes on him. She looks like she wants to rip him apart, or skin him alive, or both.

“When did you sink so low, Simon?” Her tone is demeaning and belittling. “Tell me, how much are you paying him to suck your cock? Is he really the best you can afford?”

“Jesus! Are you for re-”

But she spins around and runs out on him before he can even get a word in.

“Wow,” mutters Nathan who remains on his knees, looking both so lovely and disappointed, and though Simon longs to pick him up and make sure he’s okay, he feels strongly that he can’t let her get away.

“ALISHA!”

He catches up with her in the hallway, about ten feet from the door, which means Nathan is still able to hear them. She whips around and looks at him through teary eyes, and though he’s not about to offer his sympathy, she makes it very clear she doesn’t want it:

“You choose a stupid rent boy over me. Then you let him suck you off in the middle of the locker room, where anyone can walk in. You’re even more depraved than I thought…”

“Alisha, enough!”

“Does he let you kill him, too? Once you’re done fucking him. Am I going to find his body in a chest freezer one day?”

“Shut up. Just cut the fucking crap, will you?” 

“How could you, Simon?”

“Alisha, he’s not a whore. Don’t you dare talk to him like that. I’m serious.”

“He is _literally_ the definition of a whore. He lets men fuck him up the arse for money, doesn’t he?” 

Simon resists the urge to tell her that he isn’t one of those men, that he adores Nathan with all his heart, and that he and Nathan are different, and together, something special that she could probably never understand. But he doesn’t want to make it about him.

“You’ve told me you’ve been called names before,” he challenges her instead. “You’ve told me people have always been quick to judge you. You know how it feels to be called a slut, don’t you, Alisha? You know how it feels to be misunderstood.”

She tilts her head, glares at him spitefully.

“And yet I’ve never sucked a cock for quick cash,” she bites back.

“Alisha, come on. Lay off him. He hasn’t had it easy…”

“None of us have had it easy, you dick! Why do you think we’re doing community service and not Sunday school?”

That is when Nathan picks the worst possible moment to pop his head out through the door and give a witty reply:

“I’m Irish! Where I’m from, you don’t do Sunday school for the same reason you don’t become a choir boy- AH!”

Alisha is all over him in no time, shoving and pushing him back violently before he can finish another one of his moronic the-priest-fiddled-us jokes.

“Okay, okay!” He pleads, voice all shrill as he holds his arms up to protect his face. “I’ll be quiet! OW! Stop that!”

She manages to land a few more blows against his shoulder before Simon steps in and tries to get between them.

“You’ve ruined my life, and you don’t even care!” Alisha is full-on sobbing, which renders her shouting even more painful. “You heartless bastard! You TART! You could have sucked anyone’s cock, why did you have to suck his?”

The last thing Simon remembers is trying to stop her from hitting Nathan. He must have caught her hand, or touched her arm where he’s not definitely supposed to touch her. (Really, it’s disappointing that after everything, he still hasn’t learned his lesson). Because next thing he knows, he’s on the floor, facing the ceiling, rolling over just in time to watch Alisha walking away.

“Wh-what did I… Shit. Not again.”

Nathan hovers over him and offers his hand sadly.

“Yep. It was pretty bad,” he hisses and hauls Simon back up on his feet. “I did not see that coming.”

Woozy, Simon falls against him, sends them both stumbling into the wall.

“What did I say- no. No. I definitely don’t want to know.”

“You definitely don’t want to know,” confirms Nathan, patting the other boy’s back supportively. “Either way, it was all stuff we definitely won’t be doing. Not until you’ve had some more disciplinary training, at least.”

Simon ogles him with exhaustion.

“Joking,” Nathan appeases him quickly with a roll of his eyes. “Just joking.”

*

It takes a while for Simon to see the warning signs, and the troubling ways in which the clash with Alisha has left Nathan detached and uncharacteristically demure. There seems to be a change in him, and in the way they both interact. 

If it was just about Nathan’s sudden refusal to wear make-up, he’d at least be able to pin-point the source of the issue to Alisha’s harsh words, and the shaming that must have planted a seed of self-doubt in him. But it’s more than that. He can practically feel the other boy building up new walls around him, as if to question the morals of their relationship. Nathan is actually starting to believe he’s done something wrong, and even though the very notion is unfathomable to Simon, he catches the way Nathan consults Kelly by the vending machine:

“Do you think it’s true? Do you think I’ve ruined her life?”

Though he’s immediately disturbed by his show of penitence, Simon still doesn’t grasp the severity of Nathan’s qualms and self-blame. It is only when, a few days later, Nathan jumps in front of Alisha to save her life, that Simon truly sees the damage that has worn him down.

_“Nathan! NO!”_

As he lies in Simon’s arms, dying again, it is suddenly much too late to recognise Nathan’s sacrifice as a pattern of self-loathing, and of something that is as much self-punishment as it is his way of telling Alisha he’s sorry for her broken heart.

**Author's Note:**

> ...What a terrible cliffhanger. I'm so sorry!!
> 
> I promise this will be continued very soon :)


End file.
